


Dino-Soar Into My Heart

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amusement Parks, Dinosaurs, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: It's a hot, horrible day at the amusement park Pidge and Hunk dragged Keith to, and Keith's just hanging out by himself feeling grumpy. Nobody can say that he's having fun.And then he meets the dinosaur.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 100
Kudos: 319





	Dino-Soar Into My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Resph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resph/gifts).



> Fic request from [Resph](https://twitter.com/R3sph) who requested a meet-cute fic with Shiro working at an amusement park in a dinosaur suit and meeting Keith, with emphasis on them being cute and friendly with each other. It was so much fun to write something so lighthearted and cute! 
> 
> Shiro's dino-suit is based off [a series of tweets](https://twitter.com/higekita1/status/1277731987214659584) featuring a super neat dinosaur!! 
> 
> Thank you so much to [Sana](https://twitter.com/vrepitsana) who had some excellent brainstorming suggestions for how to approach this fic. And thank you to everyone on twitter who offered some very good dinosaur puns for this fic.
> 
> And a huge thanks to [Sharki](https://twitter.com/leftishark_) and [Sarah](https://twitter.com/ailurea), who read this over for me and also for your general cheerleading and listening to me whine. You are both the best. ♥

It was Hunk’s idea to go to the amusement park and Keith fully blames him for it. It’s a sweltering day and Keith tends to avoid and resent crowds on the best of days, but especially when it’s humid and his shirt feels tacky with sweat. 

Hunk and Pidge quickly ditch him, partly at Keith’s insistence, because they want to collect important engineering-specific data on the amusement rides (compare the maximum g-force and velocity or _something_ ), which is really just code for riding rollercoasters. Keith just wants to sit in the shade and eat a snow cone. The idea of riding any rides right now, in this heat and surrounded by so many sweaty people, makes Keith want to retch. The shade is preferable. Much preferable. 

The snow cone was a good idea in theory, except it’s dripping down his hand and leaving him feeling sticky in addition to sweaty. 

“I’m from the damn desert,” he grumbles to himself. “I should be used to heat.”

And yet. He glares into space, feeling sullen and hating that Hunk drove so he can’t even bail. He always hates it when he gets sour like this, but now that he’s sinking into it, he can’t really pull himself out of this death spiral of Cranky Party Pooper. 

The crowds aren’t as massive as they tend to be in summer, maybe because of the heat, so Keith contents himself as best he can while tucked away in a far corner of the park. There aren’t that many attractions near him, just the sour smell of a trashcan a few feet away, and an employees-only entrance to some back routes. The world ignores him and that suits Keith just fine. 

And then a giant dinosaur lumbers out of the employees-only entrance. 

Keith pauses mid sip of his drippy snow cone, eyeing it in stunned surprise. His first thought is that the suit looks like origami— a mechanical marvel that Hunk and Pidge would go feral for, all metal and mesh designed to look like folded paper. 

It's artistic in its own way, even if the wearer of the suit is shuffling along in his dino-shoes and matching shin-pads, knee-pads, and thigh-pads, and it’s not exactly graceful. 

Keith watches the dinosaur scoot forward, its massive tail swaying behind it in a mechanically timed swing. It’s a T-Rex design, the little arms flopping in front, darting back and forth thanks to the breeze ruffling through the mesh. 

Keith peers at the dinosaur for a moment, trying to figure out if the employee would have to be bent over uncomfortably to navigate it. If he’s short, he should be fine. Keith can just make out the mesh covering, subtle and hidden within the suit’s folds, where the employee would be able to see and breathe. 

There’s a fluff of white hair peeking out of it, nearly unnoticeable since the dinosaur suit itself is a stark white. An odd color choice considering the number of grubby kids who probably smear their hands all over the dinosaur once they get close enough, Keith thinks. 

“Your hair’s sticking out,” Keith calls. 

The dinosaur pauses mid-shuffle and swings over towards him, its tail nearly knocking over a trashcan. 

Through the mesh, Keith can just make out a hand touching at the hair and pushing it back down again. The dinosaur shuffles back and forth, tail swinging rapidly, in some sort of equivalent to a thankful wave or a dog wagging its tail. It seems it’s the best the dinosaur can do, considering its floppy, useless arms. 

Keith waves his snow cone back and goes back to feeling sorry for himself in a place that’s supposed to be joyful. 

-

The dinosaur returns, presumably after his rounds, with many little handprints covering him. Keith’s still sitting in the same spot, feeling a little less contrite now that the heat of the midday is subsiding. According to Pidge’s last text, they’ve migrated to the park’s space-themed section with Hunk. Keith’s still waiting in the dinosaur-themed section, the closest to the entrance, and is content to stay there until his friends are ready to head home. That just means a few hours messing around on his phone. 

He's being a wet blanket, but at least he has the decency to do it by himself rather than drag the other two down. 

Keith looks up from the text, pocketing his phone, and watches the dinosaur. It stops when it sees Keith still in the same spot, and Keith wonders if the dinosaur recognizes him from before. Keith eyes it with a thoughtful frown. 

He’s not sure what possesses him to wave again, but he has his hands free— the snow cone long melted— and it’s a simple enough gesture. 

The dinosaur shakes its tail again. This time, it makes Keith smile. It’s a wan thing, but considering his sullen mood all day, it’s a hard-won victory. A lot of the time, he wishes he were a better sort of person, someone who could smile and laugh easily. 

The dinosaur lingers a moment longer and then continues its walk towards the employees-only entrance. Keith watches him shuffle, then stands to help unlatch the gate for him. The employee within the dinosaur doesn’t have free hands to open it himself, so it’s the least he can do. 

“Here,” Keith says as he swings the gate open. Up close, the dinosaur is much bigger than Keith thought, towering above him. 

Absurdly, Keith has no idea if he should look into the beast’s eyes or towards the mesh covering for the employee. 

“Thanks,” the dinosaur says, his voice muffled through the massive suit he’s wearing. His voice is nice, though— rich, deep, and honey-warm. He wiggles a little, the mesh arms flopping. “Hard to open doors like this.” 

“I figured,” Keith says and opens the door wider. “Take it easy, man.” 

He nearly cringes at the words— what stupid fucking bro language was that?— but the dinosaur laughs as he starts moving again. “I try! After work, I’m usually dino- _sore._ ” 

“Ugh,” Keith says, an automatic response— it’s how he responds whenever Pidge makes one of their puns— and nearly slams the door shut on the dino-suit in protest. “ _Really_?” 

When the dinosaur laughs, it’s even warmer than his voice. Keith doesn’t shiver or anything dramatic like that, but he can’t deny it’s a nice sound. It’s maybe the one nice thing he’s experienced today. 

“That was awful,” Keith says rather than linger on a thought so mushy. 

“I’m _dino-sorry_ ,” the punny dinosaur says and doesn’t sound the least bit sorry. It’s clear he’s biting back an amused laugh. Keith wants to laugh, too— he likes puns, even if he’s morally obligated to roll his eyes at them whenever he hears them. 

“You can’t just put ‘dino’ in front of a word and call it good.”

“Dino-watch me,” the dinosaur says, and this time Keith _does_ laugh. 

The dinosaur pauses at the sound of it, his tail nearly whapping Keith in the side as he sways around, trying to get a look at Keith. It’s an odd angle with his mesh, but Keith feels scrutinized. It’s impossible to read a mechanical dinosaur suit’s _expression_ , of course. Keith can’t see the employee through the mesh screen, but somehow, the dinosaur radiates amusement and delight. Somehow. 

“Keep moving,” Keith says, “before I get in trouble for being in an employees-only area.” 

The dinosaur laughs again, softer this time, but obeys. He finishes his shuffle, taking a few moments to turn around despite the narrow space, being mindful not to scrape his pristine white dino-mecha into the walls or gate. 

“Thanks again,” he says. He really didn’t need to turn around for that, but Keith is strangely touched.

“No problem,” Keith says. “I’m just hanging around, anyway. Might as well be chivalrous.” 

“Such a gentleman,” the dinosaur agrees. 

Keith pauses, unsure how to end the conversation. He’s never been great with talking in general, or people in general, much less when said people are stuffed into a dino-suit and he can’t read their body language. He settles for shrugging and closing the door a little, indicating his imminent departure. 

“Alright. Uh. See you later, I guess.” 

The dinosaur waves his tail as the door shuts. 

-

Keith can’t pretend to have a reason for coming back to the park a week later, only to be willingly abandoned by Pidge and Hunk again. 

He has a funnel cake today and the weather isn’t so miserably hot, at least. Keith’s more dressed for the worst, though, with his baggy shorts and wide-brimmed hat. He looks, according to Pidge, exactly like a dad. 

_Are you secretly forty-five?_ they’d asked with an amused snort. They’d punched him playfully in the arm when Keith made a joke about not wanting to be their dad, thanks, and he’s still smarting from the sting of it. 

He licks powdered sugar from his fingertips and sits at the same bench as before, enjoying the shade beneath the tree. 

Truthfully, the real reason he’s back here is because he can’t say no to his friends and he wants them to be happy. That, and he was the only one with gas in his car, so he was the only one who could get them all to the park today. Hunk, at least, bribed him with a homecooked meal tonight and some gas money. 

Keith looks up from his funnel cake in time to see the same white dinosaur come lumbering down the walkway. Kids are running up to him and away from him, screeching in delight as they touch his swaying tail. One of them unwittingly stomps on the employee’s foot, though, and Keith cringes as the dinosaur does less of a shuffle and more of a limp. Oops. 

“Hey,” Keith calls, standing and tossing away the paper plate for his funnel cake. He starts towards the poor dinosaur and the crowd of children preventing its escape. He claps his hands like he’s trying to shoo away squirrels, which summons some attention from some of the kids— but they mostly ignore him. 

“Hey!” he says again. “All of you, shoo!” 

He even waves his hand. More kids stop to stare at him. He’s surprised there aren’t any parents swooping in to berate him for yelling at their kids. Why are there kids wandering around alone and harassing park employees anyway?

Wow, he really does sound like a cranky dad. 

“Time to put the dinosaur, uhhh, back on his island,” Keith says, puffing his chest out, hoping he exudes the authority necessary to be a dinosaur-zookeeper, or whatever it is that he’s pretending to be. “Better run before he eats you.” 

The children still aren’t really listening to him, although a few do scatter. The others continue ducking around the dinosaur’s tail before they grow tired of the novelty and dart away. Now that the dinosaur isn’t moving, it’s less fun, it seems. 

“My hero,” comes the muffled words from within the dinosaur suit. 

Keith blushes and shrugs. “Uh, you just looked like you needed an escape. I dunno if you remember me from last time, but—” 

“Of course I remember you,” the dinosaur says and Keith shouldn’t blush further at that. And then, voice soft with gratitude and laced with amusement, like he’s about to laugh: “You saved me.” 

The dinosaur starts walking and Keith falls in step with him, trying to radiate important dinosaur-zookeeper some more, ushering the T-Rex towards the exit. 

“Shouldn’t you have someone around to wrangle you?” Keith asks. He thought that was pretty common practice.

“The park’s short-staffed this month,” the dinosaur answers. “Managers figure I can handle myself since I’m big enough and it’s hard to break this thing. Worst that happens is I have to wipe it down when I get handprints all over me.” 

Keith gives the suit a once-over. Sticky child-sized fingerprints abound in a multitude of snow cone and cotton candy colors. “Looks like that’s what you’re up to once you get out of here.”

Just like last week, Keith moves to the gate and unlocks it for the dinosaur, swinging the door open. 

“… Your hair’s sticking up again, by the way,” Keith says, eyeing the fluff of white hair curling out of the spot at the top of the mesh. 

The dinosaur sighs and, once again, Keith spies a hand brushing it away. “It keeps doing that. I think I have to give up the ghost and wear the cap.” 

“A tragedy, I’m sure.” 

“You have no idea. It’s already so sweaty in here,” the dinosaur says as he ambles past into the employees-only area. “And I’m all hunched over, too. By the end of the day, I’m not a T-Rex but a _mega-sore-ass._ ” 

“Ugh!” The response is instinctive and once the words properly register, he groans anew. “That wasn’t family friendly.”

“Good thing I only said it to you, then,” the dinosaur says and laughs as he retreats fully into the employees-only area. “Thanks again for your help.” 

“Sure,” Keith says. “Hope your day goes well and you’re not a total _tyrannosaurus wreck_ after work.” 

There’s the briefest pause and then Keith shuts the door on the dinosaur’s delighted, startled laugh. 

It’s a nice sound. 

-

Keith starts returning to the park on a near weekly basis. Hunk and Pidge have their own season passes, so it’s not a hardship for them. If they think anything of Keith’s newfound love of the amusement park, they don’t say anything about it. Keith still feels embarrassed about it, though. But, in fairness, it’s a smaller amusement park— not horrendously expensive like some of the corporate ones can be. It’s one way to spend a summer. If Keith’s honest, it’s not like he’d be spending his time or money on anything else if he weren’t with Hunk and Pidge. 

He does deign to ride a few rides with them that third week as they collect data (as they keep claiming is their reason for what they’re doing). He enjoys a few attractions with them, but mostly, Keith spends the trips people-watching. 

He doesn’t bring his sketchbook with him to the park, but he does like to spend the afternoons in his typical spot just watching other park-goers as they meander. Keith’s never felt like he understands people in general, or how to talk to them, but he knows how to observe them. He knows how to look for the way they move, noting their strange gaits so he can recreate them later in the comics he draws. He knows how to document the unique structure of a jawline, the curve of an eye, the sculpted eyebrows, the shape of hands curled around a soda bottle or another’s hand. Each person is unique, their own mosaic and canvas, something that Keith can draw upon later as he creates his own worlds. 

He occasionally sees the dinosaur. Every time he does, even when he doesn't have time to stay and talk, Keith goes to open the gate for him. And every time, the dinosaur thanks him for it. 

It's an easy exchange, and there’s no reason that Keith should feel good about it. He doesn’t know the guy, doesn’t even know his name, but a small part of him always looks forward to seeing the dinosaur. He’s just easy to talk to, in a low-pressure, routine situation like this. 

Mostly, the dinosaur is the only one who can get Keith to laugh lately, even with horrendous puns. 

Keith’s not sure what that says about him or the state of his life, really. 

-

It’s the end of another hot day and Keith’s outside the park’s entrance. He’s been waiting for Pidge and Hunk for about twenty minutes now since they said they were on their way out to head home with him. Keith’s glad he didn’t try idling in his car at the front entrance. Instead, he’s just wandering around the front entrance. 

From now on, he knows that an _we’re on our way_ text from Pidge means that they’re still at least forty minutes from being done with data-collection. The park is only open for twenty minutes more, and Keith is sure he won't see Hunk or Pidge before it closes. 

Keith looks up— and sees the dinosaur out of his suit.

He knows it’s the dinosaur because it’s just a guy wearing the ridiculous leg-guards and dino-shoes. Even without the whole origami dinosaur around him, Keith would recognize those leg-guards anywhere. 

The guy’s sitting at the bus stop. He has a messenger bag in his lap and a flannel tied around his waist. His hair is stark white, that fluffy bit that Keith always sees through the mesh sticking straight up thanks to a bandana tied around his forehead, wicking away the sweat of the day. 

“Dinosaur,” Keith says stupidly.

The guy turns at the sound of Keith’s voice, and if he had any doubt that this was the same dinosaur he’s been interacting with for weeks now, it disappears instantly when the guy bursts into a wide smile. 

“Cranky bench guy!” he says in return. 

“It’s Keith,” Keith says instantly and then wants to slap his forehead. He hesitates, wavering, and then wanders closer towards the bus stop and the guy sitting under its overhang. 

The guy laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t know that. You never told me your name.” 

The guy stands up as Keith approaches. He’s much taller than Keith expected. _He really does have to hunch down in that suit when he wears it_ , is Keith’s first thought.

“I don’t tend to tell dinosaurs my name,” Keith says back. “They never appreciate it.” 

The guy grins wider, looking delighted. “Dinosaurs are _awful_ about remembering names. Good call.” He tilts his head. “How’d you guess it was me, anyway?”

“Your shoes are pretty obvious,” Keith says, fighting back a smile. He’s not sure why he feels a little floaty, just talking about nothing with the guy. 

The guy stares down at his shoes, as if he could have forgotten he was wearing them. 

“Dino what to tell you,” he says after a pause. He props one foot up onto the bus stop bench, posing like a model deep in thought. Theatrically, he adds, “I like to make a fashion statement.” 

He certainly does make some sort of fashion statement standing there in ridiculous shoes and dinosaur-padding, the flannel around his waist, the bandana, the leggings. His tee is clingy but a little too sweaty on the chest and in the pits to look effortlessly attractive. 

His smile, though— it matches how Keith imagined it would look. It suits the gentle glide of his voice, the honeyed lilt of his laugh. With no face to picture, Keith’s spent the last few weeks thinking about that voice. Keith knows, stupidly, that later this is what he’s going to remember best— the way the smile lights up his face, how he just seems to radiate joy.

Keith jerks his chin towards the foot propped up on the bench and the main dino-toes. “They let you walk out with their property?” 

“Oh, no, they’re mine,” he says, dropping his foot back down and doing the familiar shuffle Keith’s seen him do countless times in the suit. “I made them.” Keith must look perplexed because he says, “I don’t work for the park. They commission me to do the work, but I built that suit myself.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah!” Dinosaur guy just grins wider, clearly delighted to have surprised Keith. “I have a whole fleet of suits, although Atlas is my favorite.” 

“Atlas?” 

“The T-Rex,” he says. “She’s the most popular, too. Kids go crazy for the T-Rex.” 

“It’s a classic.” 

“I’m Shiro, by the way,” the guy— Shiro— finally says, sticking his hand out for Keith to shake. Keith hesitates only a moment before he grasps his hand in his, giving it a firm shake. It feels stupid to shake hands with someone he’s talked to off-and-on for the better part of a month, much less in this context, but Shiro’s smile is good-natured and puts Keith at ease. 

Shiro has nice hands. Keith lingers before he lets go. 

“Shiro,” Keith says, testing the name.

“Keith.” 

Keith laughs and shakes his head, crossing his arms and shifting from foot to foot, unsure what to make of this turn-of-events. It makes sense that Shiro would be an independent contractor— it is a small little amusement park, after all, mostly employing local teenagers in the summer. It’s not some major franchise park, that’s for sure. 

“You should talk with my friends,” Keith says. “They’d go crazy listening to how you built Atlas. They’re engineers,” he explains at Shiro’s curious gaze. “It’s why we’re here so often. They’re ‘studying’ the rides.”

Shiro laughs. “Oh, I bet they are.” 

Keith smiles. Shiro’s laugh is infectious. It’s nice to put a face to the voice, to the cheesy lines, to the puns. 

“… Do you seriously think of me as the cranky bench guy?” 

Shiro shrugs. “You’re always sitting there and you’re always glaring until you see me.” 

Keith blushes, not sure if Shiro is implying anything with the observation. “It’s always too hot,” he mumbles. “I can’t help it.” 

“You’re telling me,” Shiro says, rubbing the bandana across his forehead. “On hot days, that dino-suit is torture. I need to install a mini-fan or something. Nothing I’ve done so far has helped keep me cool.” 

“ _Jur-astic_ times call for _jur-astic_ measures, I guess,” Keith says.

There’s the briefest pause when Shiro just stares at him. And then he throws his head back and laughs. Literally throws his head back. Keith’s never seen someone do that before, much less in response to something he’s said. He can’t help his startled, answering chuckle as Shiro’s laugh booms in the bus stop shelter. 

It's a pretty good joke, if he thinks so himself. Keith feels warm and fuzzy inside. 

“You’re funny,” Shiro says when he gets control of himself again, his eyes sparkling. “I like you, Keith.” 

He says it so casually. Keith sputters, his entire face turning red. 

Shiro’s smile turns sympathetic and self-conscious. He chuckles, adjusting his bandana, a blush staining across his cheeks. “I mean— I always like it when you’re in the park. I always look forward to passing you.” 

“I, uh… Yeah. Yeah, same here, Shiro.” 

It’s stupid. It’s completely stupid. Keith shouldn’t be grinning like a goon because of it, and yet he is. Shiro’s answering smile is equally as goofy. 

Keith looks down the road. “Are you waiting for the bus?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro says and doesn’t point out that it’s an inane question, considering where they’re standing. He shrugs. “Saves money.” 

Keith nods, thinking of the hit his gas bill’s taken over the past month since he’s shouldered most of the carpooling to the park. At least Hunk and Pidge pitch in, of course. They’re not monsters. 

“So…” Keith says.

“So,” Shiro says back. He grins.

Keith doesn’t actually have anything to say, though. He laughs, feeling awkward and blushy, and shrugs his shoulders. He shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking on his feet. 

Keith’s phone chimes with a text message, likely Hunk or Pidge informing him that they’re still _on their way._ Keith doesn’t bother pulling it out since apparently he’s lost control of his life and can only grin stupidly at Shiro, who grins back at him just as stupidly.

Keith hasn’t felt this silly since middle school. He feels a bit like a preteen right now, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, staring at a funny guy with dumb fashion sense and dinosaur-shoes. 

Well, Keith always loved dinosaurs as a kid. This was inevitable. 

Shiro’s bus looms in the distance, waiting at the stoplight to turn into the park and amble up to the stop. Keith and Shiro watch its approach ins silence. 

“Hey,” Keith says, as the bus slows towards them. “I never do this, but—” 

“Yeah?” Shiro says, sounding excited. 

“Do you maybe want—” Keith swallows. “I mean. We should hang out.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says.

“Like… Hang out, hang out,” Keith says. “Like, you know. Hang.” 

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, I get you. Hang.” 

The bus door opens with a whoosh behind Shiro. The driver must know Shiro enough to not just drive past him when Shiro lingers, but they look bored and impatient, like they aren’t going to wait for Shiro forever.

Keith laments he didn’t ask his question earlier. Shiro takes a step back and grins at him, boyish and sweet. 

“I’ll give you my number next time I see you,” Shiro says. He hops onto the first step of the bus, messenger bag swinging and hitting him hard in the hip. “I’ll see you again, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Shiro’s smile softens. “Night, Keith.”

“Night,” Keith says as the door shuts. 

The bus starts moving before Shiro’s settled, and Keith spies through the window as Shiro stumbles forward to grab at a bar to steady himself. 

He waves goodbye to Keith through the window. Blushing still, Keith waves back. 

-

The next time they see each other, early the next week, Shiro shuffles right up to Keith in his suit and carefully folds down his mesh screen so he can stick out his arm. 

It’s the most bizarre thing Keith’s seen in a while. 

It’s also reassuring— to watch Shiro in his suit get excited when he spots Keith. In the time since they saw each other, a small part of Keith might have worried he’d come on too strong, or was just being ridiculous. But no, apparently. 

Shiro holds out a slip of paper with his name and number scribbled on it, and a little doodle of two dinosaurs facing each other, snouts pushed together. Keith hates how damn charming the doodle is and how charming it is to see Shiro’s actual face within the confines of his mechanical dinosaur. 

It's definitely the weirdest type of flirting he’s ever done. Not that Keith has much experience with flirting in general. 

Keith smiles at him. Shiro’s all twisted and hunched over in the suit in a way that can’t be comfortable, but his smile is still nice and his laugh rich as Keith makes a show of entering his number into his phone.

“Text me,” Shiro says as he fixes his mesh, resigned to returning to work. 

Keith waves after him, his heart full. He enters Shiro’s name into his phone, punctuated with a dinosaur emoji. 

Instead of texting, Keith hangs the doodle on his fridge and calls Shiro that very night.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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